I stir in my sleep upon hearing a loud knock at the front door, my body getting up. As I make my way downstairs, I open the door and Anne is frantic on the other side.
"We had to take him to the hospital," she says, my eyes widening and feeling my heart pound.
"Why? What's wrong?" I rush, feeling fear settle in. I close and lock the door and walk to her car.
"I heard something upstairs and when I walked up, he was on the floor unmoving. When I went to him, he was speaking slurred words. It's from his nightmare," she says, the two of us getting into the car as she drives to the hospital.
"What is the nightmare?" I ask, her hands turning the heat up.
"It's the same thing that causes panic attacks. When we lived in England, we had the boat. He and his father loved to go out and spend the weekend out. One night when he was thirteen, they were out and he woke up and the boat was...sinking. Des, his father, was asleep and Harry desperately tried to wake him up. Des had suffered a heart attack and unfortunately passed away, and Harry was stranded. There weren't phones aboard so the flight for life found him and his father. Harry pulled his father out, but Harry had extreme hypothermia. The reason for his anxiety was because he was stranded for four days. I had no contact with him and he felt alone and scared," she explains, my heart breaking in two.
Harry suffered so much trauma at thirteen and I understand why he couldn't tell me. It's hard to relive such an event.
"That's why he was cold," I recall, his nightmare leaving him burning to the touch but apparently cold in his mind.
She only nods and steers into the hospital parking lot, my feet stepping out of the car. Upon entering, we walk up to his room and Anne leads me in. He's looking out the window, blinking slowly and not even fazed at Anne's words. He's only nodding and lightly shaking his head, Anne rolling her eyes at me at his behavior.
"I'll let you deal with him," she whispers, my lips curving. She walks out and I move to his bed, moving to stand on the side of the window. His eyes look up and they widen, his body moving up to look at me.
"You lay down. Don't need you reacting to something," I tell him, his head resting back on the pillow.
"I didn't know you were here," he whispers, my body sitting in a chair and leaning my head towards his.
"Your mom came and got me," I tell him, his hand moving to grab mine.
"She told me about your accident," I whisper, his hand letting go of mine. I grab it again and move my other to his cheek, resting my forehead on his.
"Please, look at me," I whisper, his head turning away.
"It wasn't her place to tell you," he states, my head moving away.
"Harry, I just want to help you, be here for you. Don't you see that?" I ask, his eyes glaring at me.
"I needed time to tell you. That's a serious part of my past and I-I relive it too much," he rushes, starting to panic. My arm wraps around him and I kiss his forehead, trying to get him to calm down.
"I know you relive it and I want to help you. You aren't alone in this Harry. I want to be here for you," I tell him, his eyes blinking to look up at me. My hand wipes under his eyes, noticing the tears falling from the green orbs.
"You don't have to worry about anything with me, okay? I will take care of you," I tell him, his arms wrapping around my body as he rests his head on my shoulder. My thumb wipes his tears and I hold him close to me, his arms around me tightly.
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Reaching Out To You (h.s. au)
FanfictionHe was the boy who wished to be free from fear. She was the one he found comfort in. A dysfunctional love story about a boy with anxiety and a girl who wants nothing more than to reach out to him.